Memoirs of a Partner
by lilDBZbuddy89
Summary: Most Pokemon stories focus on the achievements, hard work and struggles of the journey from the Pokemon Trainer's POV as they forge ahead on their mission to become a Pokemon Master. What about the Pokemon? A collection of chapters told from a Starter Pokemon's POV as they make their own journey through life at the Lab and beyond.
1. My Birthday

**AN:** This is something a little different from what I normally write. It's also written in a style I'm not as well used to and it's very likely I may have accidentally changed tenses several times as I've written this. I have scanned it and checked it over but please, if you see a bit I have missed or are unsure I've gotten the tense right (I'm supposed to be writing in past tense but I sometimes slip into present tense without noticing!), please tell me!

When it comes to Pokemon, we tend to hear a lot of the trainer's journey, how hard they train their Pokemon, how much they bond with them over the course of their journey, their hardships and achievements. I decided to instead focus on the Pokemon's P.O.V - specifically, starter Pokemon. What about their feelings? What about their point of view on the world around them? This seemed like an interesting idea to me, so here we are!

The Pokemon chosen wasn't for any particular reason other than he was my first Starter on Red (although Yellow was my first Pokemon Game). That and Water Pokemon rule!

I don't know how far I'll go into this Pokemon's journey. I may just write about their life until they're chosen by a trainer. I may extend it beyond that goalpost.

Enjoy!

-LilDBZBuddy89

* * *

**The Memoirs of a Partner:**

**Story 01 – My Birthday**

My first memory. It's a funny one because, like most of the young friends I hang around with, I seem to remember being born. From what some of the older types have told me, humans don't seem to remember that. They're a funny bunch, aren't they? Who wouldn't want to remember seeing light for the first time, taking in and understanding what a scent is, recalling the place you were born in, what it looked like, the sounds that you heard, the smells? It's all pretty interesting stuff. I remember there being some source of light above my head, pieces of shell around me and something smooth below me. I later learned that's called a table. There was someone there when I was born, something that looked very peculiar. I later on found out this was a human; a grown-up human who is in charge of the really big rooms that I've seen. Being new to all this, I didn't really object much to this person picking me up and taking me through several rooms and corridors; I was too caught up in observing my surroundings!

Some of the other younger ones have met their mummy and daddy – whatever they are. I haven't. From the sounds of things, that's not too unusual around here. I wonder if I even have a mummy or daddy and if I do, where are they?

Humans use funny words to label things and living beings. I've been told by those who know the lingo that I'm a boy, whatever that means. I've also been told that I'm a Squirtle.

It would make sense since that's the only word humans apparently hear me say. I know for a fact I'm saying far more interesting things than my own name but for some reason, humans only hear 'Squirtle Squirtle Squirtle'. I don't get it at all. All I know is that I seem to be in a room full of things that look like me. We all have light blue skin with shells protecting our body; we all have brown eyes – though I noticed there were little differences in shade depending on who I was talking to. We all also have blue curly tails – mine's great for walking with because it helps me to not fall over – and if I do fall over (which I haven't done at all yet!) then it can help me to stand back up… right?

I'm sure that Squirtle that'd fallen over earlier wasn't doing it right, that's all.

When I arrived in this room full of things that look like me – apparently we're all called Squirtle by humans – I found my head filled with so many questions. Luckily for me, I wasn't the only one who'd been born today. Some of the Squirtles I met had been born yesterday, or the day before, or the day before that. The ones who'd been born before the day before the day before yesterday seemed to know a lot. They said they'd seen more Squirtles in this huge building who were much, much older than all of us combined. They were really, really smart and could answer all my questions far better than those of us in this room.

"But how come they're not in this room with us?" I'd asked (I hope this translates to you well and that it doesn't sound like I'm repeating the name you humans call us by!).

"Because those Squirtle have already met their partners," The Squirtle with the darker shell had answered – he was born about a week ago and apparently that's a very long time.

"Partners?" One of the other Squirtle that had been born today spoke out – he had a slightly more hooked upper lip compared to most of us.

"Their Pokémon trainer," Darker-Shell answered. (I gave them nicknames in my head because it's so much easier to tell you who is who! Apparently you humans aren't so good with telling the little differences between us.)

Of course I had to ask more. "A Pokémon trainer?"

"What is that?" Hook-Lip asked.

"It's a human who comes to this place and chooses what Pokémon they would like to start an adventure with," Darker-Shell explained. "I met one the other day."

"You met one?" Another Squirtle joined us. I can't really find anything distinguishable about it other than it has rounder eyes. "What happened? Was it scary? Was it fun?"

"It was really exciting but scary too," Darker-Shell answered; I'm hooked on every word he has to tell us. "The trainer is younger than the Professor, most of them are shorter than he is. This one that I met, he had dark hair and some kind of thing on his head, his skin was darkish brown and he had a really big smile on his face."

"So is he your partner?" I asked feverently.

Darker-Shell's smile fadeed instantly and he stared at me menacingly, kinda scaring me. "What are you, an idiot? Of course he's not my partner. He chose a Charmander."

"A 'Charmander'? … What's one of those?" I'm a little more reluctant to ask anything now because several other Squirtle look like they want to hit me or something.

"They're another type of Pokémon," Round-Eyes answered – he seems much friendlier towards me than the others right now.

"What's a Pokémon?" I feel really brave and really stupid asking this.

"We are, silly!" Round-Eyes seemed to find this funny. If it's a joke then I don't get it.

"But you told me we're all Squirtles…" I'm confused.

"We are," Darker-Shell rolled his eyes, he still seems like he's on the verge of hurting me in some shape or form. "We're all Squirtles and Squirtles are just one type of Pokémon. There are loads of different types of Pokémon."

My mind is full of so many questions right now but I dare not ask them.

Because I was born at such a late time during the day (isn't it amazing that the bright thing in the sky sinks and makes everything go darker? I'm told it does this every day!), we soon have to go to sleep. The big human I saw when I was being born came into the room – Round-Eyes tells me this is who we call the Professor. The Professor feeds us some kind of yummy thing I'm later told is called food. After that he does a few checks and before you know it, the room is suddenly dark. I'm a little confused as to what we're doing and why there are suddenly lots of Squirtles hiding inside their shell but Hook-Lip tells me he's been told that when Squirtles are all hiding in their shells, they're either hiding or sleeping. We check with Darker-Shell who tells us it's time for us all to sleep.

I was far too awake to sleep.

Lucky for me, Round-Eyes and another Squirtle seemed to be too awake so the three of us picked a spot close to one another and whispered through the darkness. (The dark is kinda scary!)

"So what do you think of the Professor?" The other Squirtle asked (I nicknamed him Shell because I ran out of ideas for names!).

"He seemed nice, he didn't squeeze too hard or drop me when he brought me in here," I responded quietly, knowing that a couple of older Squirtle (they're two weeks old! That's really old!) are patrolling, making sure we're all sound asleep before they too join us.

"What?" Shell whispered in a harsh voice.

I dared not answer Shell right away as one of the older Squirtles stepped in front of me, blocking most of the light coming through my head hole. I wasn't sure if they'd heard us talking or if Shell knew there was someone watching over us. The older one stood there for quite some time, long enough for me to notice my eyelids were growing heavier. I breathed in with worry, wanting to continue talking with my newfound friends but not wanting to get into trouble.

Eventually he moved.

I waited until I was absolutely sure the coast was clear. "… Hey, you still awake?"

Nothing. Nothing but the soothing sounds of breathing and the creepy noises of the outside world. Every-so-often, something has either clicked or thudded in some unknown place, jolting me a little in my shell. I wait a little while longer before trying to call Shell again. He doesn't answer.

"I think he's fallen asleep," Round-Eyes voice was barely audible.

"I think you're right," I was getting worried. That older Squirtle had been standing there for quite some time, so perhaps Shell was not willing to risk talking when we all knew we should have been going to sleep. Still, I felt I was far too awake, especially with that scary Squirtle looming over us the way he did!

"Hey," Round-Eyes voice cut through the silence again. "… Do you think we'll ever become someone's partner?"

"Yeah," I answered, the idea made me feel even more awake than ever! "I'll bet that whoever chooses us will be a really nice trainer, too!"

"Yeah… But it won't be easy, being chosen," Round-Eyes sounded anxious. "I mean, we have to compete with other Pokémon to get a trainer."

My thoughts fell back to Darker-Shell. He had been given the chance to become a partner to a trainer and he hadn't been chosen. I couldn't imagine why no one would want to choose him as a partner. Sure he was a little scary from what I'd seen of him today but he hadn't actually harmed anyone. If anything he seemed cross he hadn't been chosen.

I still had no clue what exactly a Charmander was but surely it wasn't any better than us Squirtles, was it?


	2. My First Playtime

**Memoirs of a Partner:**

**Story 02 – My First Playtime**

I found out just how long a day really is and it's really long! It'd been a couple of days since my first memory and all I'd done was get to know more Squirtle – don't have much choice because we're everywhere in this place! Most of us are boys but there are these things called girls too – although they're also called Squirtle by the humans. Round-Eyes pointed out to me that humans are split into boys and girls too but we still call them all humans. I don't really get it but I nodded and tried to look as if I understood.

One day I got to go outside and play with the other Squirtles. My mind was completely blown when I came across another creature that looked completely different from a Squirtle. For one thing, it was up in the air and not falling down to the ground! Puffy-Tail explained to us that it's called a Butterfree and that it is also a Pokémon. It turns out that there are loads of different types of Pokémon and that us Squirtles are only one type in over one hundred! It's so impressive and yet I find it really hard to believe, even when I made friends with something that calls itself a Cubone, a bigger,blue Pokémon called a Nidorina, and a Pokémon that called itself Kadabra.

Kadabra explained to me and a few other Squirtles – and some other types of Pokémon that seem to look the same – that we are special kinds of Pokémon. He told us that trainers have a choice of starting with three Pokémon when they come to the Professor to start their journey. Squirtles are one of them (yay I feel so special!). Then there are these other Pokémon called Bulbasaur and Charmander.

"I remember hearing about a Charmander being picked over Darker-Shell!" I realised, not really meaning to talk out loud.

"You must be talking about my friend," An orange Pokémon walked up to me - I couldn't help but notice the pale yellow stripe down the middle of its body and the flame dancing on the tip of its tail. Those blue eyes really stood out against the bright orange of its skin. "My best friend was picked by a trainer the other day."

"Did they tell you what the trainer looked like? Were they nice?" I asked.

The sad tone in the Charmander's voice was there for a reason because they almost look as if they're going to cry.

"Uh, kid," The Kadabra intervened, "Once a Pokémon is chosen by their trainer, we almost never get to see them again unless the trainer drops them back off here."

I felt absolutely terrible for having asked.

Kadabra continued to tell us about Pokémon trainers, even telling us a little about his own trainer and their first encounter. However, my attention had been dragged elsewhere because the Charmander had wandered off over towards a tree. I felt reluctant to follow because past experiences had taught me that if I say something that upsets someone, it's best not to pursue them because I'll likely be hit. Or at least that was the impression I'd held up until that point.

The Charmander seemed so dejected and lonely.

"Don't worry too much about it," A voice I didn't recognise cut through my thoughts. I turned to see a different sort of Pokémon standing beside me; his body is shaped differently to mine and he seems to use all four limbs to walk on. His oval face was dotted with greenish spots just above the eyes, though his skin tone didn't seem too different to my own. He certainly was not a Squirtle, though he did have some kind of green thing on his back not too dissimilar to my own shell.

"People come and go in this place all the time, that's just how things work around here," The Pokémon sat itself down beside me and nudged its fat head over towards the Charmander I'd made sad, whom was now absentmindedly watching the flame at the tip of his tail. "He'll find a new friend, don't you worry. Life's too short to be getting sad over friends who part ways – for all we know, we may end up crossing paths again!"

I wasn't entirely sure I was on the same wavelength as this Pokémon but they seemed to be full of advice of sorts. Whether it's the right kind of advice is not up to me to decide.

"I'm a Bulbasaur in case you weren't sure," The Pokémon continued. "You look like you're from the new batch of Squirtles that the Professor's been hatching this week."

"I am," I responded, impressed and bewildered that this Pokémon could tell. How did he even know that?

Bulbasaur's smile widens, red eyes gleaming at me. "I knew it! I'm a lot older than you before you ask. I've been here for a couple of months now, helping the young Bulbasaurs through the learning process and training them up to be top-notch Bulbasaurs so they can be selected by a trainer!"

"You help them be selected? How do you do that?" I was very impressed by this point. This Bulbasaur seemed to be very knowledgable indeed – even knowing how to help other Bulbasaurs be chosen by humans? I had never even considered it to work like a competition. The way other Squirtles had explained it to me before, they'd made it sound like trainers had already made up their minds who would be chosen by the time they came to select their Pokémon. Perhaps not all trainers were set on their decision like I'd been made to believe…

"Simple," Bulbasaur responded with a crafty smile, "I just tell them how Bulbasaurs are supposed to behave when it comes to the selection process."

"And how are Bulbasaurs supposed to behave when it comes to being chosen?"

"Well, from what I can gather by the Professor, grass-type Pokémon are seen as quiet but very resilient and patient, so to show that, we have to sit really still and quietly, waiting patiently for the trainer to pidk us. Under no circumstances are we to show off our vines or try and get their attention, just wait for them to come to us…" Bulbasaur explained, though his face dropped and his voice trailed off. He looked as if he'd done something terrible.

"That's your advice? No wonder no Bulbasaurs have been chosen within the last couple of ceremonies!" Another Charmander stood inches away from us, thick arms folded, wearing a nasty-looking smile. His eyes looked a little darker than the other Charmander's eyes and his flame seemed brighter and possibly… bigger? It had never occurred to me that Charmanders could do that but then again I'd never met one until today, so is that really surprising?

Bulbasaur's look of dread turned to a scowl – I can't say I was under the impression that he was a living role-model of the advice he'd reportedly been giving the other Bulbasaur.

"You won't get picked if you don't draw attention to yourself," The Charmander leered, flexing the muscles in his crossed arms. "Whoever told you that clearly wants you guys to lose!"

"They did not! We won't lose to you!" Bulbasaur snapped hotly. Definitely not quiet or patient here, he seemed far more impulsive and quick to anger to me at this point in time, although this Charmander gave me a shiver. Something about him seemed worrying, almost threatening, sending a dragging feeling in my stomach.

"Most of the Pokémon that have been chosen as partners this year happened to be Charmanders," The Charmander replied cooly, clearly enjoying getting to Bulbasaur. "I don't even think a single Bulbasaur has been picked yet!"

"Three have been picked!" Bulbasaur's anger quickly turned into a smug look not too different to the one Charmander held.

"Nineteen ceremonies have been held this year," Charmander was quick off the mark. "Ten Charmanders have been chosen – way more than your pitiful three! It's nothing to write home about when you face the real facts, is it?"

Bulbasaur's ears turned red at the tips but he didn't say another word. When Charmander was satisfied he'd finished with us, he turned his heels and left, wandering over towards the other saddened Charmander by the tree.

"What was that all about?" I asked, bemused by what I'd just witnessed. I'd never seen any Pokémon talk back to another like that, it was really unpleasant to witness!

Bulbasaur didn't respond and by the time it seemed he'd plucked up the words, Kadabra had cut in. "That's nothing new here. You recall I told you that Bulbasaur, Squirtle and Charmander are the three Pokémon selected to be partners for new Pokémon Trainers? Well for as far back as I can remember, there seemed to be competition between the three Pokémon. It started off friendly but the cream of the crop are turning sour; I see more and more scuffles between starters because of this supposed competition between you all."

"That Charmander takes it really seriously," I'm surprised to see Darker-Shell standing with us. "He's really determined and fired up to make sure that Charmanders are the most chosen starter choice this year. They won last year – we weren't far behind and neither were the Bulbasaurs – although," his eyes turned to Bulbasaur, "maybe you should change your tactics. I mean, we tell our Squrtles to be modest and calm but if they get the opportunity, try to earn likeability points where possible. Perhaps being as reserved as they're told to be is what's keeping Bulbasaurs from being selected?"

"You use your tactics and we'll use ours," Bulbasaur haughtily responded before striding off muttering under his breath.

"Seems the competition is getting to him, too," Darker-Shell muttered.

I watched Bulbasaur leave, only hindered when a group of Nidoran rush past chasing one another in circles. By the time they reveal the spot Bulbasaur was in my visual field, he's gone.


	3. First Day in a Pokeball

**Memoirs of a Partner:**

**Story 03 – First Day in a Pokéball**

My third day of life started with a sudden shock. The Professor wandered into our room, as per usual, only this time he held some bizarre items I'd never seen before in his arms. They were small, round and decorated with a red and white coating, a stripe of black around the middle. He placed these items upon a desk to the side of the room before feeding and watering us. I thought little more of it as I wolfed down my food and drank as much water as I could – drinking always made me feel pepped up inside and very energetic, almost as if I were complete in some strange way. It was only afterwards that my attention was returned to the fact that something very, very odd was going to happen today.

The majority of the Squirtles of our troupe, as I'd started to refer to us all as, headed over towards the Professor, almost as if they were expecting something extra. The Professor seemed unfazed by this as he returned over to the desk with those strange devices, picking a couple of them up and pointing them towards the group of congregating Squirtles. Something about those devices made me feel uneasy – this was reinstated when the objects suddenly shot red lights at individual Squirtles! Light-Tail was the first to be taken, then Jumbo, then Thick-Shell – the Professor kept on placing the devices he'd used to shoot the Squirtle with back on the desk and replacing them with new ones, zapping every Squirtle near him!

"You alright, kid?" Darker-Shell almost made me jump out of my shell, I'd been too absorbed in my horror to even hear him approach me! He placed a reassuring hand upon my shoulder which honestly didn't reassure me much, "Consider this lesson number one in learning what it is to be a Pokémon Starter."

The red light suddenly engulfed his body, disfiguring him and turning him into the beam of light itself! I watched helplessly and numbed with horror as he was sucked into the little white point in the centre of the ball held within the Professor's hand.

Another device is pointed straight towards me.

"Don't you dare!" I shouted out, taking a step back.

The red light shot out of the device and struck its target. My body was suddenly completely out of my control, a great sense forced me towards the device, ripping me off the cool tiles of the floor and forcing me through the air as if I'd gained the ability to become weightless. My mind was panicking, willing with all its might to break free from the sense that pulled me forward. Within the blink of an eye, I found myself suddenly sitting in a small, circular space.

My mind was still willing me to run. This odd, enclosed space. It felt so wrong being here, I shouldn't have been here. I had to get out!

A surge of power driving through my veins and the need to free myself pulled me into action. Without even thinking I threw myself at the curved walls, bashing against them repeatedly as hard as I could, willing myself to become free from this encapsulating object. Another push of my legs forced my head to strike against the top of the object, my skull throbbed as I landed back upon my feet but despite the pain, I had to try again.

I recall being blinded instantly as soon as I struck the side again, my body felt weightless once more until I felt the cool sensation of the floor under my feet.

"Oh?"

My eyes opened at the sound of the Professor's voice; his dark eyes focused straight on me with a quizzical look upon his aging face. I realised I was back in the room, back again in familiar soundings. You'd have thought I'd have been relieved to be free however my heart had stopped with terror, eyes pinned onto the tall human approaching me. Was he about to use another one of those things to catch me again?

"There, there, little one," The Professor spoke calmly, slowly lowering himself to a squat, forcing me to take a step back from him, wanting to keep the distance between us in case he tried anything sneaky. My eyes were darting between his hands, watching every move they made just in case he'd suddenly pull another one of those traps out and try to get me. His eyes bore into me like lasers, like he was trying to test me in some way. He studied me intensely which only made me feel as if I needed to escape, I needed to find a way out of this room before he tried to catch me again – I knew he was going to do it again! I couldn't explain it but I just knew it! The others hasn't managed to escape him but I wasn't going to be like them, I wasn't going to go down so easily and be stuck, trapped in those confined balls of solitude!

His right hand reached down and grabbed hold of the round ball between us. I took another step back.

"Don't worry," His voice was calm and sympathetic but I wasn't going to fall for it. No way. I was not going to be captured and kept prisoner. What was it anyway? Why was it all the other Squirtles hadn't been able to free themselves? Was this some kind of trick I wasn't aware of? There hadn't been a mass panic about these things when the Professor had brought them out but that could easily be explained by it being such a surprise, no one had been given the time to panic!

"This here is a Pokéball," The Professor held up the device and waved it slightly in his hand, smile still upon his features. "It's something that Pokémon are able to live inside. It's a safe, secure place of your own." He lowered his hand and placed the ball upon the floor. His hand moved back behind it and gently nudged the 'Pokéball' (or whatever it was called) in my direction. It stopped a couple of feet from me. I didn't know whether to focus my attention upon it or the Professor; his eyes were still studying me. What was he planning?

"See for yourself," He offered, shuffling back a little.

He was closer to the rest of those devices upon the desk but further away from the one between us. My interest was still on him but I couldn't ignore the ball upon the floor he'd used to try and prison me. The nagging feeling festered. Daring for a moment, my eyes fell in my field of vision down towards the ball settled on the floor. It wasn't moving… and it didn't look that intimidating. How misleading appearances could be. I inched closer towards it, bit by bit watching it and the Professor, eyes darting between the two. The ball was soon by my feet, about half my height, still unmoving. My eyes turned up to the Professor – his eyes _still_ on me. Quickly I looked back down, terrified that the device might suddenly come to life and snatch me up. Still as a stone.

I took a sniff of the air, picking up the Professor's faint scent upon the device. It didn't smell of much else. It didn't look terrifying in itself but I was still adamant I didn't want to be caught inside of it again.

"Still not sure, are you?" The Professor chuckled, irritating me. This wasn't funny, this was terrifying! "It's alright, they probably are quite scary the first time you use one. Here, I'll see what I can do…" He rose to his full height and walked over to the other side of the room, towards a large storage case. It was only now I funny focused on what this case contained and appreciated it for what it truly was; coated in glass, there were several panels of some solid material with circular indents spaced out evenly on each level. Inside several of these indents sat the same device settled before me and upon the desk. Pokéballs. Loads of Pokéballs, too many for me to count.

The Professor took one of the balls and gently flicked it out of his hand. With a crack and sudden burst of pure white light, the Pokéball released something which formed before me. Instantly I found another Squirtle standing before me. I immediately recognised it as Short-Tail, an older Squirtle that seemed generally friendly from all the interactions I'd had with them.

What was the Professor up to?

"What's going on?" Short-Tail asked glancing around at our surroundings. She spotted me and glanced questionably for a moment before the lightbulb went on. "Oh!" Waddling over toward me, she held a sympathetic but odd smile upon her face. "You've never been in a Pokéball, have you?"

"Ah, I see you know already," The Professor interjects before I can, taking a couple of steps towards us and squatting down close to us. It occurred to me that I'd never quite known if the Professor, like other humans, would find it impossible to understand Squirtle language. "This little one is having trouble getting used to being in a Pokéball," from the sounds of it, he's not entirely clued into what we're saying as he repeated Short-Tail's suspicions.

"I thought so," Short-Tail shook her head looking exasperated. "It's alright, they do take some time getting used to for some of us."

"Getting used to?" I repeated in disbelief. "You mean we're all expected to just be snatched up and trapped inside of these tiny little things? That's outrageous!"

"It's not so bad," Short-Tail smiled, "It's a much more comfortable way travelling than it is sitting or walking beside your partner – once you get a partner of course. Give it a try, really. Nothing bad will happen to you."

I stared at her with mixed feelings. I had a fellow Squirtle telling me there was nothing to worry about and yet I found the thought of being trapped inside of that device utterly terrifying. What exactly was there not to worry about?

"You know…" She continued, a strange look in her eye that I couldn't quite work out. "… If you don't get used to being in a Pokéball, no trainer will be willing to take you on as their partner."

I would like to point out that at this moment in time, I literally had no idea how much Short-Tail had just lied (but that's for another day!). Completely oblivious as to what that look truly meant, her words had sent me worrying over a different matter, one that apparently seemed more important to me than being scared of being trapped inside that thing.

Next thing I knew, the device had once again struck me. As I was dragged into its interior, I barely heard Short-Tail reminding me to relax and try it out. She'd come from a Pokéball… and none of the other Squirtles had refused to be confined. Maybe they all knew what she'd just told me. There was still that issue regarding competition between the starter types (even though in all honesty most of the Squirtles – and most of the other starter types – didn't seem bothered by it!) and I didn't want to let the others down.

Against the hysterical voice freaking out over me being in a confided space, I tried to block it out and listened to Short-Tail's words as it repeated over and over again. As I focused more on her words, I felt my body slowly weaken; to this day I'm not sure whether it's the effect of the Pokéball or the effect of my body relaxing on its own accord. As my body fell into a more slumber-like state, my mind did too. The screaming voice gradually vanished, kicked out ceremoniously by the overpowering voice that told me things would be fine and that I was in no danger. I don't know whose voice it was as it certainly sounded like none I'd come across before. It put me further at ease, my body almost melting into position against the cool walls of the device, eyelids growing heavier and heavier until they finally closed.

My first time in a Pokéball was spent napping. Once I'd been let out, Short-Tail and a couple of the other Squirtles were eager to hear about how I'd found the whole experience and began telling me their own stories.

Apparently getting used to being in a Pokéball was a vital part of becoming a great partner Pokémon. At least that's what everyone told me at first…


	4. My First Ceremony

**Memoirs of a Partner:**

**Story 04 – My First Ceremony**

It's been a while since my last entry. I apologise for the wait. Things have been so busy recently. We've had a new batch of Charmander eggs that hatched about a month or so ago; they're all getting to grips with the Pokéballs and meeting new Pokémon during the play sessions. A lot of things have changed around here. Both Darker-Shell and Big-Eyes have been selected as Pokémon partners and have gone off with their trainers on their adventure. I'm now taking lessons from Short-Tail and a couple of other older Squirtles on what I need to do to be a reliable and trustworthy partner Pokémon, so as to make my trainer happy.

I'd probably mention that Short-Tail has also made it clear that if I'm treated badly, then I ought to seek help where I can, or run away if possible. I'm not really sure what she's talking about because from what I've heard, all trainers are nice to their Pokémon. Apparently that's not the case. It just makes me worry all the more; I hadn't given much thought to what my potential trainer would be like...

What if I end up with a trainer who's mean and nasty?

One morning, I found myself being summoned from my Pokéball. Nothing unusual about that, only I was the only one out of the entire Squirtle troupe that was woken and allowed to stretch my legs.

Naturally alarm bells were ringing in my mind. Not only was I the only Squirtle out of my Pokéball but I also seemed to be in the company of a Charmander and Bulbasaur; both of whom seemed to be too preoccupied with what stood before us. My eyes quickly left them and almost popped out of my skull as I realised just what was going on.

A boy – a human boy – was standing beside the Professor staring at us with intent.

He and the Professor exchanged words with one another, words I didn't catch because I was too engrossed with trying to stop my heart's attempts to leap from my shell! '_A human child is here! I'm out, as are a representative of the other two partner options!'_ Those thoughts still echo through my mind; they echoed through my head through the entire ordeal, even long past the moment where he chose. _'Stay calm,_' I told myself. Stupidly I believed telling myself to stay calm would actually help, if anything I think it made me all the more nervous. So nervous and so engrossed, I missed the vital part where the boy made his final decision; I missed the part where the Bulbasaur chosen was picked up, leaving myself and the Charmander to dwell on the moment that'd passed – not that I did because I hadn't been paying attention!

It was only when I felt my body be pulled back into the Pokéball that I saw the fleeting view of the boy walking out of the room.

Reporting back to my peers later on that day, I was bombarded with questions from many of them, most of whom hadn't been selected for a child's ceremony before. I tried my best to answer them but in all honesty, I was still mesmerised by the notion I'd even been selected, still feeling the effects of my knotting stomach and sudden desire not to eat anything. The last time I'd felt this way was when I'd experienced being returned into my Pokéball!

"Who did he pick?" One of the older Squirtles asked. I knew for a fact that this particular Squirtle was very interested in the so-called competition between us and the other two starter choices. Those closer to me had made the point to me that at the end of the day, this competition was nothing but an excuse for some of the more aggressive of our kind to gloat and to cause mayhem. Honestly I could see that for myself and even with Squirtle pride at stake, I tactfully ignored his question and instead spoke about what the room looked like (nothing much different from the one we stay in!).

I had little idea that the gap between this experience and the next would be so short. A week or so later, I found myself once again the only Squirtle out of my Pokéball.

At least this time I thought I knew what to expect. How wrong I was.

Not one. Three. Three of them stood before us in the Professor's company. It took a long while for it to sink in; there would be a trainer each for us… that was the only conclusion I came up with and it sent a plethora of mixed emotions swirling through me, the look on my face must have confused and concerned the kids present because they seemed to gravitate towards the Charmander at first, who seemed more comfortable with the situation we were in. The Bulbasaur simply sat and waited patiently.

"Now rest assured," The Professor's gentle voice helped to soothe my nerves, but it was not me whom he was talking to, "these three Pokémon are the choice you will be given. We have more than one of each kind so if you all end up wanting to take the same Pokémon along on your journeys, that's entirely possible."

I wasn't sure why a sharp pang had just gone off in my mind.

"So you mean if I wanted a Charmander and if my friend also wanted Charmander, we could both have one?" One of the children asked.

Now I knew why the sharp pang had gone off in my mind, cascading down my spine like an unpleasant piece of ice grimly making its slow, painful descent down my back.

"That's right," The Professor's nod caused the piece of ice to grow far larger and engulf my body entirely, choking me of air. I thought I was surely going to leave this place today? How could that be? Didn't the Professor know that if three of the same Pokémon type were taken all on the same day, the others would see that as a victory for their team? What about Squirtle pride?

Since when had I cared about it so much? It was for people who wanted to stir up trouble, right? I shouldn't have cared about such trivial things; I should have been far more concerned with how my potential partner would treat me? Shouldn't I have cared more about the harmony between the different starters?

"I'm gonna choose Charmander," The boy who'd asked the question had made up his mind.

"I'll go with Squirtle."

The words sapped me away from my dilemma, eyes moving up and across to find the source of the voice that'd just stolen me from my thoughts. They met soft brown orbs, a warm smile and the most gently-expressional face I'd ever witnessed to grace a human's face.

My thumping heart wasn't sure whether to calm from the effects of the gentle nature this child seemed to emit, or to pound harder because he had chosen me. He had chosen _me._

I was leaving the Professor's laboratory. I was leaving the confines and safety of the place I'd been born in. I was leaving all the other Squirtles behind, leaving behind those who had looked out for me. I felt overwhelmed, elated, terrified, sad, ecstatic, in disbelief. I felt so unprepared and yet so ready to leave, to move on and head on into the next stage of my journey in life. I was going along with a new trainer who seemed to be as kind-hearted and gentle as I'd hoped.

While the third trainer selected her Pokémon (for the record, she ended up with Bulbasaur – the perfect result for those concerned with the competition between the starters and allowing me to feel less guilty), I was introduced to the child who'd selected me as their partner. Those brown eyes seemed to contrast against the light blonde hair settled neatly upon his head, making them seem even warmer than perhaps they otherwise may have been. Anxiety filled me as he reached out, a gentle grip under my arms kept me secure in his hold as he held me up; all the while I hoped he would not drop me.

"I thought you would be the best Pokémon to choose because you're a water type," The boy's smile was infectious. "I hope we get on well and have an awesome time together."

"Me too," I responded, though I'm pretty sure all he heard is me repeating myself, as do other humans. I can't help but smile back at his young face, infected by his sense of peace and tranquillity. The flash in his eyes suggested he was perhaps just as excited and nervous as I felt.

The Professor goes through the rest of what I assume is part of the ceremony, handing a couple of strange, flat devices out to each child before collecting up the Pokéballs. Passing mine to my respected partner, he bid us all one final farewell.

My trainer lifted me once more from the table, his smile having widened into a grin.

That was all I needed.

I knew I was in safe hands.

I knew we would go far together.

After all, we were partners.


End file.
